


Only You

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Classical conditioning, Imprisonment, Psychological Torture, Restraints, Reverse Conditioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 10:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: The song....''That fucking song.'It started playing seemingly out of nowhere as Jasper was walking through the mountains. His head twisted in every which direction trying to pinpoint it but it was everywhere. It bounced off the rocky outcroppings and danced between the ravines and rifts of terrain, prancing around trees and hills like forest fae lullabies from ancient folklore. Jasper felt the clenching sickness that twisted his stomach, the dread that came at that sound. He raised his hands to cover his ears but it was futile. It's claws were already sunk in, digging away at his consciousness.





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> This may be incomplete. I had planned a part 2 but life kept getting in the way so I'm not entirely sure if I'll do the part two. Might just leave it like this. I hope you all enjoy nonetheless. Please leave a comment and a kudos down below on what you think.

_ 'The song....' _ _   
_

_  
___'That fucking song.'  


  
It started playing seemingly out of nowhere as Jasper was walking through the mountains. His head twisted in every which direction trying to pinpoint it but it was everywhere. It bounced off the rocky outcroppings and danced between the ravines and rifts of terrain, prancing around trees and hills like forest fae lullabies from ancient folklore. Jasper felt the clenching sickness that twisted his stomach, the dread that came at that sound. He raised his hands to cover his ears but it was futile. It's claws were already sunk in, digging away at his consciousness.   


  
He whimpered, feeling the weakness in his legs as it continues, crooning to him lovingly with a sickening sweetness that made him want to scream. Eventually he did, as the rose tinted edges of his vision shifted into a blur before the ground rushed up too quickly for him to make out. Before long, that hazy pinkish visage faded into a warm darkness, wrapping him up like a blanket in a cold night. He couldn't fight it. He never had a chance.  
  
  
When his eyes opened, he was met with darkness still. A soft fabric wrapped around his face, just big enough to cover his eyes. Rope burned into his wrists as he was left on his side. The previous warmth faded away, leaving him cold. Chilled right down to the bone. This time it was real, not just some illusion conjured up by a broken mind. His flannel was gone, so was his shirt and his boots. He was left barefoot, in his jeans with the collar still snug around his neck. It felt uncomfortable, like someone had attempted to get it off him and instead left red streaks of agitation across his neck. He shifted in his bonds, wrists fighting the ropes as fingers searched for freedom, attempting to twist around enough to work at them but it was futile. Someone knew what they were doing.   


  
Footsteps clipped across concrete floors, distinctly boots. A sound all too familiar to Jasper's ears as they scuffed the heel before coming to a halt. Jasper tilted his head to direct his attention towards his captor, lips parted as if to speak but no sound would ever come. Softly, ever so fucking softly, __that song played into the air. It was quiet but not quite the same. The tingly sensation of nerves wired and eager to perform, to respond, started to spread. Muscles tense and coiled, fingers curling into tight balls that dug crescent shapes into his palms. As the song played longer, it seemed to slowly grow louder but it still seemed wrong. It wasn't the same.   


  
Jasper fought the restraints, urged on by the panic in his chest and the nerves fraying in his mind with desire. The carnal impulse to react. To be directed. To hunt and kill. His aggression underlying and linked to a tether wound tight and holding him defiantly in place. He panted, chest heaving with deeper breathes as that cramped and suffocating panic started sinking in. That paranoid fear, fueled by desperation and the delusions his mind created in the darkness, fuzzy with a head rush of intoxication brought on by that fucking song. 

  
  
It wasn't until the song played a third time in a row that Jasper figured out what was wrong with it. Another melody was woven through, intersecting key notes that should have put him over. That should have him blacked out in an unrelenting rage. A bloodlust unrivaled by man or beast. But this new altered form kept him on the precipice. Made certain he was stuck on the median between lucid and loss of control. This song was slow, grating in his ears and plucking like icy pinpricks in the back of his mind. He whimpered, writhing on the floor with body wound like a spring, tight and deadly. His wrists fought the ropes more fiercely, answered only by the unforgiving bite of fibers digging into his skin, his wrists raw and possibly bloody by now. Just when it appeared he could take no more, he was gifted with silence. Footsteps softly receding before a heavy metal door slammed shut locking him into his solitude.

 

The quiet didn’t last forever as an hour ticked by before the sound of footsteps approached. Boots scuffing the floor and that dreaded song started to play. The panic and desperation burrowed into his bones as he struggled for freedom. A never ending repetition of a slow agony burning his nerve endings and plucking at the fibers of his sanity. The song would always loop a few times, slow and butchered by an underlying current of notes, calculated and timed before those ominous footsteps would approach and deliver him back into silence. Again and again, it continued so many times until Jasper could no longer tell the change of time between sessions. His stomach was knotted into tight balls of anxiety, the sour bile of sickness burning up his throat as his fruitless struggles were nothing more than wasted energy. 

 

Sweat trickled down the nape of his neck as he panted and squirmed, his muscles tense and cramping, burning up his legs and down his arms, curling into a web of white hot pulse points spread across his back. One mass of throbbing protesting signals denying him even the subtlest movements, twitching into taut outbursts. Sleep eluded him, with what little peace he was allowed was swiftly reclaimed by those dreaded footsteps. 

 

It felt like eternity had passed before the footsteps came but no music played. Silence remained as several more steps followed, the soft shuffling of tennis shoes and the scuff of another set of boots, one scraping with a noticeable wince like a pebble was lodged in the tread. Hands grasped at him from all sides, strong and firm as they squeezed his bound limbs. The slightest jostle made his swollen joints cry out, muffled whimpers falling from his parched lips. They parted in a gasp, copper tinting over his taste buds as he was dragged away. His bare feet sagging against the ground, his body lacking the energy to fight or resist. Not a single soul spoke as he was half carried outdoors somewhere. The cool nip of night air brushing over his bare torso, raising goosebumps across his body as he was deposited into the back of a van. It roared to life with a sickly belch in the engine, sputtering with the smog of a bad tail pipe as they drove off. 

 

Jasper’s exhaustion dragging him under as he laid limp at the feet of his captors. A boot nudged his shoulder looking for a response. A warm hand touching his back, outlining the tattoo that declared his moniker. Soft whispering could be heard but not a word could be made out. Jasper groaned softly as the van hit a sizable pothole that made his body jolt. He shuddered, curling up on himself the best he could as another pothole tossed and rocked him roughly. The drive wasn’t very long, coming to end down a narrow dirt track leading into the thick of the forest. He was dragged out of the vehicle and deposited in the dew damp grass. The thunk of a bag landing beside him was heard, the items inside clinking around with a familiar sound. A knife cut the rope on his wrists but the blindfold remained. The footsteps faded quickly before the van rumbled off down the road. 

 

It took several minutes for Jasper to muster the energy to remove the blindfold. His body protesting every motion, struggling to lift his arms above his head. His vision was blurred as he blinked into the darkness of night, the speckle of stars above barely made out. His pack resting at his side with the red flannel fabric peeking into the open. It took quite a bit of effort for him to get properly dressed, most of the time was spent trying to focus enough to tie his bootlaces. He shrugged his pack onto his shoulder. His side arm clipped to his thigh as he shuffled through the forest to the nearest hunting shack. It was near the water’s edge and a well known peggy patrol area, securing a safe location to spend the next two days. 

  
  


It had been a week and a half that Jasper had been missing. Several of those days was spent jumping from one location to the next and sleeping off the extent of his injuries in locked houses and storage rooms. He scrounged for food sources and slept some more. He spent two days holed up in one location while a group of peggies and whitetails fought back and forth in the woods surrounding and a very pissed off wolverine was drawn out of it’s den to prowl after the intruders, eating the corpses of the dead along the way. His radio battery was beyond dead as was his cellphone, preventing him from contacting his handler. 

 

By the time he reached the Center, the Herald was beyond pissed. The agitation in his body was sharp enough to slice through any who dared confront him. Those glacial blue eyes which normally met him with warmth and understanding were an icy blade driven deep through his being. Jasper’s fists curled tightly as he shuffled towards Jacob, the dark shadows under his eyes matching Jasper’s own. “Where were you? You look like shit. What the fuck happened?” Jasper made a motion with his hands, two fists put together with his thumbs hooked, then attempted to pry them apart. “Stuck? Stuck where? Why didn’t you call?” Jasper unclipped the radio from his belt and showed the long since dead battery on the device. 

 

A curse left Jacob’s lips as he growled out. “Where’s your spare?” A tilt of the radio showed the little yellow marker on the radio that identified the battery as Jasper’s spare. Another unpleasant growl before strong hands gripped the back of the mute’s neck and directed him towards the front doors of the center. The force of the push nearly made Jasper buckle but he managed to stumble his way inside, his feet feeling like cement blocks with every dragging motion. 

 

“You’ve been radio silent for near two weeks, pup. That doesn’t look good.” Jacob snarled into his ear as he directed Jasper up the stairs leading to their shared room. Jasper spent more time in there then he did his own bunk, making it a cozy little space he found comfort in returning to. Right now, it was one of the last places he wanted to be. He wanted to be anywhere else but there. He wanted to find his brother, to see Angelo and seek comfort in the constant protective presence but he didn’t have that luxury at the moment. 

 

Once they were inside the room, the door slammed shut and clicked with a lock. Jacob’s hold tightening on his neck before he shoved Jasper forward. His hand batted the strap of his bag off the mute’s shoulder and forced it to hit the ground. Jasper flinched, looking down with a forlorn look, his fingers twitched to pick it up but his attention didn’t linger long. The soldier’s hands were prying every piece of fabric they could reach off of Jasper. His flannel raked off of him in a sharp tug, a few buttons that failed to come loose popped clean off and rolled across the floor. Jasper flinched, giving his handler a confused and upset look as his shirt was hiked up over his head. He had only a moment to process the action and lift his arms or fear for the sake of the rest of his belongings. Jacob stopped there, his gaze roaming over Jasper’s body as he eyed the signs of captivity. The healing wounds on his pet’s wrists, the marks of bruises where hands had held him down, the pallor of sickness where hunger had set in. Jasper was rundown, the signs were littered across his face. Even as those freckled features turned away, blue eyes haunted and avoiding the soldier’s hard steely gaze. 

 

A strong hand took him by the jaw and corrected Jasper’s posture, forcing him to look up at him. The shifting of the collar exposed the damage attempted to it. The chipped marks of leather where someone attempted to cut it off. The ripped edges and the scratch marks on the buckles and fasteners. “Who did this?”

 

Jasper didn’t answer, his gaze avoiding Jacob’s once more. The soldier shook him a little harder, his free hand gripping Jasper’s bicep, overlapping the older bruises as he repeated in a firm tone, venom dripping from the edges. “Who took you, Jasper?”

 

Jasper answered with a shrug, shaking his head gently once Jacob loosened his hold. He raised his hand and covered his eyes in answer. “You were blindfolded?” Jasper nodded then covered his mouth and shook his head again. It took a little longer for Jacob to make sense of this gesture before asking. “They didn’t speak?” Jasper nodded in affirmation. 

 

“What did they do to you?” The question was pointed and expectant. Jacob’s gaze dropping back down to take in the markings on Jasper’s body. The signs of struggling, of resisting restraints but there were no signs of torture. 

 

Jasper didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t understand what they were attempting to do, whatever their plans were. He wasn’t even sure why they let him go or if whatever they were attempting even succeeded. He shook his head slowly, giving another shrug. Jacob wasn’t entirely certain what that answer meant but he had little time to respond when the thundering knock on his door alerted him to a new shipment. A peggy informed Jacob of the fresh group of whitetail captives that entered the compound. A few commands passed through the locked door before the peggy left the herald to his pet. “Get some food and rest. You’re off duty the next few days but do not leave this compound.” His last words were hard with warning. Jasper nodded, watching his handler leave out the door before submitting to the trembling of his legs. He dropped to his knees with a shaky sigh, one hand rising to rub at his eyes before he started picking up his lost buttons. Trembling fingers attempting to put them back onto his flannel but he gave up with another shaky sigh. 

  
  


The following days were mostly spent sleeping off his exhaustion. Sometimes he would be curled up in Jacob’s bed with the soldier’s body tucked closer to him, sometimes Jacob would be rummaging through papers at his desk, muttering to himself till late in the night. Jasper would wrap a blanket around his shoulders and sit on the floor beside him, his head coming to rest on Jacob’s thigh as he dozed off once more. A hand dropping down to brush through the tousled raven locks out of habit as the tension eased from Jacob’s form. He would lean back in his chair, sigh deeply as he gazed over his work but inevitably, he would focus his attention on his pet. His fingers carding through Jasper’s hair until he’d invite him up into his lap to find someplace more comfortable. Jasper would share the warmth of the blanket with his handler and nuzzle against Jacob’s neck with a sleepy sound in his throat. His eyes closing as the soldier hummed softly into his ear.

 

The trick would always work, getting the herald back into bed with him as he tended to his exhausted pet. A minor distraction that plucked at the older man’s habits and desires with a far greater percent of success. 

 

As the days passed by, Jasper was permitted to work again and busied himself around the compound, slipping into his usual routine. Most often he would spend his time in the kitchen preparing the meals for the other soldiers since he was still technically under house arrest. Jacob refused to let him leave the base, often mumbling some excuse or another, nothing ever consistent or sensible. For the first time in a long time, Jasper was ordered to be by Jacob’s side as they rotated the captives out for the next culling. Normally Jasper avoided it, he hated watching the gruesome display and was reminded of his own trials he was forced to run through. Of the blood and brutality that he endured. That he himself had exhibited while pressed firmly beneath Jacob’s thumb. His limbs guided like puppet strings and Jacob was his puppeteer. Though undyingly loyal to the man, it didn’t mean Jasper had to love every inch of what Jacob does or what he stood for. He had plenty of his own opinions on how the Herald ran his operations and many of them would drive Jacob up a wall with contempt. 

 

As the newest group of whitetails were strapped into the chairs in the training room, Jacob began his usual monologue about strong and weak. About who was meat and who was the predator feasting on it. It was always very long, drawn out and overly dramatic, making Jasper sigh and roll his eyes. He was fairly certain at this point that that was one of the few traits the Seeds all shared much like their uncanny blue eyes. When the time came for the real show, the music was keyed up on the surrounding speakers as the usual song played. For each group there was a different song set to play so there wouldn’t be intersecting cues, but as the first few notes filtered out of the speakers, a chilling sense of dread filled Jasper’s body. Jacob’s own confusion lit up his glacial hues as a very familiar and personal song played but it wasn’t the same one that chimed from his special little music box. 

 

Jasper felt his nerves start to burn, muscles coiled tight with tension as the rosy hues blotted out his vision. His footsteps staggered to the doorway, a futile attempt to leave the room as he grasped at the doors. His knees buckled as it became harder to breath, a scream ripping through his chest followed by sharp frantic whimpers. Jacob cursed, yelling at the peggies over the radio that were controlling the sound system in each training room. There was a panic as they rushed around trying to turn the speakers off. Their systems failed repeatedly, the whitetails present eyeing the herald with smug looks, sharing the same unspoken understanding before their eyes darted towards the doorway. Jasper’s body was slumped against the frame, hands resting at his sides as his eyes gazed distantly forward, lost behind a clouded veil. 

 

Each note of the song was offset by an accompanying note, ticking by with a subtle twitch in his fingers. Jacob carefully approached his guard dog, a strong hand dropping to gently tangle into Jasper’s raven locks. At first there was no response, no tilt of the head in understanding or a small sound in his throat. He didn’t even turn Jacob’s way to draw closer, a habit they had cultivated over time. There was nothing for several long heavy heart beats. Then, in the flash of an eye, Jasper lunged. His body twisted sharply, slashing out towards Jacob with the buck knife on his belt. His eyes were wide and unfocused, fueled with a bloodlust Jacob had trained into him. The soldier was forced to step back, his hands outstretched to calm his pet, to coax his words into his mind and bring him out of the aggressive stupor. Jasper was unfazed, every step was determined, hand gripping the knife with intent. His jaw set and lips pursed into a firm line. His knuckles white where he held the blade, a growl in his throat as he lunged forward with intent to kill. 

 

The room was too small, too crowded to avoid every slash and jab. Jacob’s training helped him redirect and grapple for Jasper’s limbs but the mute was slippery as he wiggled free, striking weak points in Jacob’s stance, moving where the older man couldn’t counterattack. He twisted with his youthful flexibility, releasing the blade to drive a hard palm into Jacob’s sternum, followed by an elbow blow that knocked the air from his lungs. Another strike brought Jasper closer before the soldier could regain his ground. He managed to catch the mute and flipped him over, a swift and painful kick to the leg had Jasper on his knees but not before the mute managed to stick a smaller utility knife into Jacob’s side. Jacob cursed before forcing his pet back into the ground, pressing the buck knife to Jasper’s throat as he threatened to slice it open where the leather of his collar failed to protect. 

 

The little snarl from Jasper was a terrifying one as the mute pressed closer with teeth bared bloody, his tongue bit nearly through the tip. The edge of the knife left a shallow cut in warning as the pressure increased. The music soon faded and the doors were unlocked by the peggies guarding outside. The whitetails cursed and laughed at the Herald, spitting slander even as they were hauled from their seats back to the cages. Jacob kept a firm hold on Jasper until the haze faded into an eventual blackout. His body going slack beneath the heavy weight bearing down on him. He gently withdrew the knife and glanced over his pet, a hand coming to grip his jaw firmly, turning his pale slackened features from side to side in thought. A heavy sigh filling Jacob’s chest as he cursed under his breath, returning the knife to its sheathe. “What did they do to ya, pup?”


End file.
